


Colour My World With Hope Of Loving You

by lovely_rita



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Paranoia, Paul's an idiot but we love him, Recreational Drug Use, Ringo being a soft boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_rita/pseuds/lovely_rita
Summary: It seems that Paul and drugs do not mix, but Ringo is there to help him
Relationships: Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Colour My World With Hope Of Loving You

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the lovely anon who needs some cheering up <3 <3

He hadn’t heard from Paul in hours.

It seemed as though Brian thought it was a good idea that now they earn a lot more, they should no longer be bundled into a shared room, and instead have one each. The only problem with that is that Ringo and Paul have to sneak in and out of each other’s rooms every night instead of just sharing like they did before. So the weird thing is that he’d knocked on Paul’s door and hadn’t received an answer, so he presumed he’d gone out, only to find out from Brian that Paul hadn’t left his room since the night before. He’d knocked again and still received no answer, and so he decided to leave it a few hours, thinking that Paul was asleep and would come out into the shared living area soon.

Only now, it’s been four hours and there’s still no sight of Paul. Ringo decides enough is enough. He can’t let himself sit and worry if there’s nothing to be worried about, and so knocks on Paul’s door again.

“Paul?”

No reply. He sighs, knocking again.

“Paul, I’m coming in.”

He turns the handle down and pushes the door forward, only it jams, an object halting it. Ringo frowns and peers down to see that the object is a foot. A bare foot that most certainly belongs to Paul. He tries to push the door again but the foot stops it making Ringo ready to just tear the bloody door down until Paul’s head appears in the narrow slit.

“Ringo?”

His voice is high and unnatural as if panic is interwoven into each syllable, and Ringo’s frown deepens in bewilderment.

“Yeah, it’s me. Can you let me in?”

The shadow that’s cast on Paul’s face makes his expression indistinguishable, but there’s a slight shuffle before the foot is gone, and Ringo pushes the door open. It’s dark, the curtains drawn and the lights switched off, and he closes the door quietly, eyes searching for Paul hidden amongst the shadows.

“Paul, can I turn on the light?”

He says it into the darkness, not quite knowing where to direct his voice, but there’s a keen from somewhere to his left, and the sound of it makes him jump slightly. He turns the lamp on before Paul can give an answer.

The lamp is dim, only lighting up the room in fragments, but he’s able to see Paul now, stood at the side of his bed with his head in his hands. Ringo approaches him, hands searching for the familiarity of Paul’s touch. He slides his fingers gently over Paul’s upper arms but it only serves to make Paul flinch and his head snap up from where it’d been buried in his hands. His eyes are bloodshot and his pupils blown, and his body can’t stay still, trembling slightly under Ringo’s hand.

“Hey,” Ringo says softly, brushing a hand up to rest on Paul’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

Paul bites his lips, eyes darting around for a second as if he’s searching for something before he says “they’re gonna find me.”

Ringo frowns, not knowing what the hell Paul’s talking about.

“Who?”

“The people,” Paul says, whispered through gritted teeth. Ringo blinks at him and instead moves to take Paul’s jittery hands into his own, pressing them between their two bodies. He squeezes them gently as he looks around for anything that would give away Paul’s strange behaviour. He can’t see properly in the dark lighting, but he can only think of one thing that would make Paul act so off and make him look so ill.

“What have you taken, Paul?”

Paul looks at him, tugging his lip between his teeth rather violently.

“I er- smoked a joint.”

Ringo doesn’t buy it.

“And?”

“I don’t know, Rob gave me somethin’ last night but I took it this morning,” Paul says rather sheepishly, and Ringo has to fight off the urge to smack him upside the head. Instead, he lets out a long breath and guides Paul to sit down on the bed. He leaves him there for a second, fetching a glass of water from the bathroom before he comes back in, finding Paul not nearly as wide awake as he had been ten minutes before.

“Here,” he says, slipping the drink carefully into Paul’s hands before guiding it to his lips, letting Paul take two gulps before putting it aside. Paul lets out a strangled sort of noise and slumps over slightly, and Ringo tuts, wiping the tears on Paul’s cheeks before pulling him against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Paul says, his voice feeble and muffled slightly against Ringo’s shirt. Ringo sighs, running a hand through Paul’s hair gently, soothing him as the younger man’s cries bubble upwards.

“I know,” Ringo says, and he lets Paul cling onto him tighter, practically hearing his unnaturally raised heartbeat and uneven breaths. Ringo shushes him, kissing the tip of his forehead before he pulls away, watching as Paul sniffs but no more sobs are clawed from his chest. Ringo smiles slightly and wipes away the sweat from Paul’s forehead with his sleeve, letting his fingers move down to trace his jaw as Paul hiccups.

“Promise me ya won’t do that again. Nearly scared me to death.”

Paul nods, leaning into Ringo’s touch slightly, relaxing, even if only a little, for the first time in god knows how long.

Paul sniffs and Ringo rubs a thumb over his cheek before he kisses him softly. It’s only quick, and when they pull away Ringo lowers Paul so he’s lying on the bed. He slips his shoes off and climbs in next to him, feeling the way Paul’s still trembling and so hooks his arms around his waist, pulling each other closer.

Ringo may be pissed as hell but there’s no way he’ll let Paul deal with this alone. He watches as Paul closes his eyes, head lowering to rest against Ringo’s chest, and Ringo kisses his head softly.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, the title is from Colour My World by Chicago. It's a beautiful song so if you haven't listened to it already, you should.  
> You can find me on Tumblr at @lovely-rita-meter-maidd where I write small ficlets and headcanons. Don't be afraid to send me an ask! They are greatly appreciated :)  
> Thank you for reading <3 <3


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